Biker Outlaw's Princess: An MC Romance

by Bella Rose

  I collapsed to the bed beside her. Gathering Anya into my arms, I cradled her next to my chest and sighed with contentment. She was already dozing, and I was preparing to spend an entire night in the bed of a stranger. Not just any stranger, but a woman I had been contracted to protect. It was the absolute opposite of the way my life generally worked.

  I was a killer. There was no doubt in my mind about it. I reveled in violence and wiped the blood of my victims on my clothes as though it were nothing. I would shoot a target just as easily as I might stab one. It made no difference to me, which made me a very violent man. It was not in my nature to be soft.

  And yet as I lay there in Anya’s bed gazing down at the shadowy details of her face, I could not help but wonder if there wasn’t a different life out there to complement my existence as an assassin. Perhaps there was a way to maintain my edge but enjoy the softer side of life too. There was a part of me that wished this assignment would go away completely. I didn’t want there to be a monetary reason or an order behind my decision to protect Anya. Because if I were honest with myself, I would have to admit that I would most happily protect this woman for free.

  Chapter Six

  Anya

  I won’t lie. Waking up in my bed with Vasily still beside me was amazing. My alarm went off like usual. But when I went to roll over and shut it off, there was a very large and very warm body in the way. So instead of me turning the alarm off, Vasily did it. The whole thing was weirdly domestic and very satisfying in ways I wasn’t yet ready to explore.

  Resting on my back, I indulged myself thinking about how badly my father would freak out if he had any idea of what I had done. Papa was more than a little protective. He couldn’t help it really. When you were a criminal who spent all your time around other criminals playing a game to see who could be the best criminal, it sort of ruined your opinion of people.

  “Good morning.” Vasily’s voice was wonderfully raspy. “I hope you don’t mind that I stayed the night.”

  “No, not at all,” I said. Maybe I spoke too quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was some weirdly desperate spinster. “You’re not much of a bed hog,” I told him to lighten the mood a bit.

  He chuckled and rolled onto his side. There was enough light seeping around my closed blinds that I could now see his expressions. The man was still handsome as an angel and twice as dangerous. I hesitantly reached out to touch his face. He let me, remaining still as I stroked the blade of his nose and the strong line of his jaw.

  “What do you see?” His voice was whisper soft.

  “A very handsome man.” I realized something then. “I don’t know anything else about you.”

  “You will learn.”

  The words were so decisive. How strange. And how did he propose that I get to know him if this was essentially a one-night stand? Oh. That thought was not appealing to me at all. I didn’t want this to be a onetime thing.

  He smoothed the frown lines between my eyebrows. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I don’t do one-night stands very well,” I admitted. There was no reason to hide what I was thinking. “I’m feeling a little reluctant to let the night end.”

  He glanced at the clock. “But you’re going to be late for work.”

  “How do you know that?”

  The expression on his face mystified me. What was with all the enigmatic glances and such? “Your alarm just went off. It’s a safe bet that you set your alarm with just enough time to get ready as most people do. That means if you linger any longer in bed, you’re going to be late.”

  “Oh.” For some reason I felt let down. What was I hoping? That the guy had been stalking me or something? Talk about insane.

  “Will I see you again?” I felt like an idiot for worrying about it.

  “Yes.” He didn’t say anything else. He was already up and out of the bed. He headed into the living room to get his clothes. “I’ll find you. I promise.”

  “That’s rather one-sided,” I pointed out, feeling weirdly nervous. “You know, I’m not really big on people just surprising me around town.”

  “It will be fine.”

  And with that very decisive statement, he was gone. The front door opened and closed, and he was simply gone as though he had never been. It was very disconcerting. I had to force myself out of bed and into the shower. The entire time I got ready for school I was moping and wondering if I had just been taken advantage of by some serial player. That would have been the icing on the cake. Really. My father was always saying that sort of thing about me. I didn’t want it to be true.

  Finally I was dressed, ready, and getting into my tiny little car to drive to school. It was only ten blocks away, but as a history teacher I often had more than my fair share of heavy tomes to lug along with me. Today was no exception. I got out of the car with a load of books in my arms and barely managed to get into the building without dropping the stack. I made it all the way to my classroom before I was spotted by any of the other teachers.

  “Hey you!”

  I gave a little squeak and flung the entire stack of textbooks up into the air. They rained down on me like a hellish storm of heavy paper with sharp corners. I rubbed my head where I’d just gotten clocked by one and danced a bit to keep them from hitting my feet.

  “Daisy, that’s not funny,” I told the departmental aide. “Seriously, you could have given me a heart attack.”

  “No more so than any other morning,” Daisy said drolly. “So, did you have a nice night last night? I know you and your dad were supposed to have a meeting. How did that go?”

  Daisy was one of the few people who knew who my father was. She was trustworthy, but she had also been my friend since college. It had been incredibly helpful over the years to have someone to put up with the weirdness of having a notorious parent.

  “I met a guy.” I knelt and began to pick up the books.

  I could positively feel Daisy’s gaze ripping straight through me. “You met a guy.”

  “I did.” And I realized that I didn’t want to talk about it. The experience had changed me. I had invited a complete stranger to spend the night in my bed. He had ordered me to strip naked. He had brought me unimaginable pleasure, and when he had commanded it, I had climaxed for his enjoyment.

  “Okay, then.” Daisy sounded off. And then I realized that I was the one that was off. And perhaps I didn’t even want to be back “on” again.

  Vasily

  I am not a man who likes to wait. I prefer action. So when I pushed my way into the Orlovs’ restaurant that morning, I didn’t have lunch plans on my mind. I saw the two men I’d faced last night almost immediately. Pyotr was lounging against the bar, and his comrade was sitting beside him. Both had insolent looks of stupidity on their faces.

  “So tell me,” I said as I bellied up to the bar. “Which one of you wants to pay first for your idiocy last night?”

  Pyotr curled his lip, drawing it away from his yellowed teeth and hissing at me like a rabid animal. “Go to hell, Vasily.”

  “Fine. You first.”

  I drew a knife from my jacket and hefted the handle in my hand. It was smooth to the touch, and yet I knew the blade was deadly sharp. Before Pyotr could open his mouth a second time, I grabbed his hand and pinned it to the bar top with my knife. The blade sank into his flesh, bypassing bone and sticking into the wood where it stayed.

  Blood gushed wet and sticky over Pyotr’s hand. My fingers came away red, but I took them and wiped them across Pyotr’s face before turning to face his friend. The other man’s round look of surprise did him no favors. I grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulled him forward, and bashed his face with my forehead.

  I felt the cartilage in his nose crunch beneath the blow. His nose ran red with blood that soaked the front of his shirt. It didn’t deter me. I grabbed him once again and dragged him closer. Behind me, Pyotr was gasping and crying as he grabbed at his hand. My knife stuck fast in the bar, and each time he tried to get it
free he only sliced more of his hand in the process. The raw mess of flesh was seeping all over the dark wood, the grain becoming mottled with blood and tissue.

  “Now,” I said to them both. “Shall we begin again?”

  “Our boss sent me and Dimitri after the girl,” Pyotr said breathlessly. His face was pale, and he looked in danger of fainting.

  I gazed at the man—Dimitri apparently—that I was still holding. I grabbed his broken nose by both nostrils and pulled them painfully upwards. He stood on tiptoe, trying to ease the pressure. It didn’t work. Nothing would. These men deserved to pay for what they had done.

  “You don’t attack her again.” I let the words hang. “Ever.”

  “Okay.” Pyotr was nodding. “Just get it out.”

  “You don’t touch her. You don’t even look at her. She’s mine, my property, and under my protection.” I knew what those words seemed to imply, and I didn’t care.

  I tripped Dimitri and sent him crashing to the floor. Placing my boot over his throat, I leaned into the contact and watched his face turn red from lack of air. The way the blood vessels popped out of his skin and eyes fascinated me. Air was vital for life. Depriving a man of that necessity made him a slave to my will. I knew that.

  A shot of satisfaction went through me. I was done here. If I lingered any longer I might run the risk of another Orlov getting involved. Not that I didn’t relish the opportunity for a little more bloodshed, but these were freebies and I had paying jobs to take care of.

  “What do you care?” Pyotr gasped. “What does that woman mean to you?”

  Keeping my boot on Dimitri’s throat, I turned and wrenched the knife out of the bar. Pyotr doubled over, grabbing his hand and cradling the useless limb to his chest. But I wasn’t done. I slipped the blade beneath his chin and forced him to look up at me. I could feel the sharp edge sliding into the soft underside of his throat. The skin there parted like warm butter. It would have been nothing to change the angle and slide that knife into his throat completely. I could have ended his worthless existence, except he had a purpose just yet.

  “I claim her,” I told them both. “Anya Romanov is mine. If you touch her, you’re challenging me. Is that understood?”

  “Yes!” Pyotr was the only one to answer. Dimitri could not speak with my boot cutting off his airway.

  Now I lowered the knife and let Pyotr step away. It was so tempting to end it for him. To draw back my arm and let the blade fly. It would sink to the hilt in the soft flesh of his throat. He would choke on his own blood, slowly suffocating to death as he was unable to breathe. It was a painful way to die, and yet it made a rather emphatic point to anyone who saw the results.

  “Do you still question me?” I looked from one to the other, removing my boot from Dimitri’s throat.

  It was all Dimitri could do to regain his ability to breathe. He didn’t respond to my demand. That wasn’t acceptable. I pulled my leg back and let fly with a kick that flipped him to his other side. I felt his ribs give against the laces of my shoe and felt the most delightful sensation of satisfaction at the injury. Dimitri was out for a while. So was Pyotr. Let Orlov come up with something else to bother Anya. I would be ready.

  “What should we tell our Pekhan?” Pyotr called after me. “When he sends us after the girl and we refuse? What do we say then?”

  “You tell him that you’re saving your worthless hide. And if he wants you alive, he’ll listen,” I told them. “And if he doesn’t, he’ll send you my way.”

  I tried to hide the smile on my face as I pushed my way back out of the bar. That would stir things up with the Orlovs. Boris was too passive for my taste. If these bastards were going to threaten Romanov interests, the only thing to do was draw them out and pick them off one by one. If that meant Anya became bait—well, that’s why Boris had assigned me to protect her. Perhaps the danger would make things that much hotter between us.

  Chapter Seven

  Anya

  I pulled my car into the driveway and shut off the engine. My heart was hammering against my ribs. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. There were probably only twenty feet between my car and my front door. It wasn’t far. I could get out and walk. I’d done it a million times. But for some reason, tonight my hands were sweating on the steering wheel. All I could remember was the feel of the cold knife blade against my chest the night before. There was no Vasily now.

  Every shadow seemed inky black and threatening. Was something moving behind the bushes at the corner of my house? A tingle shot down my spine. My grip tightened on the steering wheel. I wanted to leave. But this was my house. This was supposed to be my refuge away from my father’s house and away from the dangerous life that he led. Maybe I would never get away from it.

  My belly twisted into knots as I contemplated that. The possibility of a lifetime of nights coming home to an empty dark house and never feeling safe again loomed large. I had never realized what independence could cost.

  “No,” I whispered. “I won’t be afraid. I won’t.”

  I forced myself to open the driver’s door. My hands were shaking as I put my feet on the pavement. I stood up and clutched my satchel to my chest. The cut on my chest burned. It was odd, but I hadn’t felt any pain the night before when Vasily was touching me. Now it was like a hot poker was being driven through my breast.

  I took a shaky breath and exhaled. My scalp was crawling. The front door seemed to have gotten farther away. I tried not to run. That would have been silly. Still, I was walking as fast as I could. I pulled my keys out and stuck them through my fingers so that if I was attacked I could stab my assailant with them.

  There was an angry shadow behind every bush and a threat behind every tree. By the time I made it to my front porch, there were tears pouring down my cheeks. I shoved the key in the lock. I had to hurry. There was no time, no time at all. Danger was coming. That’s all I knew. I could feel it creeping up behind me like cold fingers against my neck.

  Finally the door gave and I nearly fell inside the house. I slammed the door shut and slid the dead bolt. Resting my forehead against the cool wood, I tried to stop the mad beating of my heart. I took deep breaths and told myself that it was only panic. Completely illogical and totally…

  A knock made me leap into the air. I smacked my face on the door. My eyes immediately began to water as my nose gushed blood. Lifting my hand to my face, I squeezed the bridge of my nose to slow the bleeding.

  “Anya?”

  I dropped my bag on the kitchen table as I ran to the sink. Groping blindly, I came up with a towel. I pressed it to my nose and tried not to feel stupid.

  “Anya!” The voice on the other side of the door was sharper.

  Vasily.

  “I’m fine!” I called back, my voice a little garbled. “Just give me a minute.”

  Why did his presence suddenly make me feel so much better? It wasn’t like I knew him. In fact, I should be as suspicious of him as I was of those Orlov bastards. Vasily had shown up so unexpectedly. He’d wriggled his way into my home and into my bed. That wasn’t like me. Not at all. I didn’t do careless stuff like that. I knew better.

  “Just go away,” I called after a moment. Yes. That was what I should be doing. Even though my heart started racing once again. What if he listened and he left? I would be alone. There was something about Vasily that was so safe. It didn’t make sense, but I knew it was true.

  Something slammed against my front door so hard that the wood shivered against the hinges. “Open this damned door before I break it down.”

  He sounded like an animal. Yet instead of fear, I felt only a delicious twinge of anticipation. That’s when I started to feel apprehension about him. I wasn’t afraid. I wanted him too badly for that. How could I trust my judgment about anything when I couldn’t even see the obvious danger standing at my front door?

  Vasily

  So the little mouse thought she was going to shut me out now? Unacceptable. She belonged to me, and I had
access to my property where and when I chose. Besides, she should not be worrying about me. She should have been worried about the men crouched in the darkness across the street. There were unknown to me, but that would change soon enough. First, though, I needed to establish my territory with Anya.

  I wasn’t going to tell her twice. If she did not open the door, I was going to break it down. One good kick would do nicely. She would learn not to bar her door against me. I pressed my fist to the wood and felt the low quality of the structure. I opened my palm and pressed hard. The door creaked beneath my touch. I prepared myself. My toes curled inside my combat boots as I prepared to kick it down. She would scream, but she would learn.

  Then I heard the lock turn. I took a step back. Good behavior earned a reward. If there wasn’t a need to scare her, I would perhaps give her affection instead. My body tightened in anticipation of that. Touching Anya would be a pleasure for us both. I would make certain of it.

  “I told you that I was fine,” she said as she swung the front door open.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but the sight of the bloody rag held to her face stopped me cold. “What happened?” I asked tersely. “Did someone hurt you?”

  “Just you,” she said drily.

  I shoved my way past her, gaining entrance without being invited or asking. We were far beyond those pleasantries. She just didn’t know it yet. “What do you mean, just me?”

  She turned and glared at me over the blood-soaked rag. “I smacked my face on the door when you pounded on it.”

  Then she was indeed correct. It had been because of me, although it was a testament to how jumpy she was as well. Still, I needed to make amends. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was worried. I thought you might still be apprehensive after what happened last night. I didn’t want you to be alone.”